


your lips, my lips

by Mothervvoid



Series: We Belong to a Wicked Hallelujah [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Foe Yay, POV Second Person, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothervvoid/pseuds/Mothervvoid
Summary: ... apocalypseYou both have forgotten something precious.
Relationships: Elidibus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Series: We Belong to a Wicked Hallelujah [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006605
Kudos: 17





	your lips, my lips

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for me but y’all can read it if you want. wol is my character Tyler but it’s in second person so you can’t really tell

He comes to you again at night. You feel like a teenager, opening her window so that her boyfriend can scramble inside before her parents see. 

Part of you wants to lash out and scream at him to leave. He’d deserve it, someone who's finally had enough of his holier-than-thou bullshit. But he comes under the guise of a truce, a temporary white flag and a tiny, disgusting part of you wants him to stay.

It whispers about your first meeting and the smile he left you with. 

_‘Lovely’_ he said. 

You let him stay. Let him back you against a wall. 

His lips are moving but you don’t care about what he might be saying. You stare at his lips, his nose, the red mask.

You’d like to see his eyes.

Slowly, your hand reaches. Reaches up bravely for that mask that hid his face from you for so long.

“Don’t,” is all he says, your hand against his cheek. You don’t care. You pluck it off his face and let it fall to the floor with a _clack._

His nose was more aquiline than you would have guessed, his eyes a shade of violet. Eyebrows and lashes as white as snow.

“You—“ He stops, like he can't remember what he was going to say next. Like he was about to call you something, someone, that existed on the tip of his tongue.

Someone he’s forgotten.

His clawed hand digs into your shoulder, but you’re feeling brave today. You cup his cheek again, and lean in.

By all rights you should despise this man, and yet.

And yet.

He sees you. Not clearly, but clearer than others. He comes to you, to you first before others. And fills you with awful, terrible emotions. Rage. Love.

How can you hate so much it turns to love?

Your faces drift closer, your eye drinking in his uncovered features. There’s so much of his face to explore, shorn of its mask. Yet you’re still drawn to his lips.

Lips you wish to touch. Touch with your own lips. You wish to devour him, to be done with him. To settle the fight between your conflicting emotions.

Your lips meet.

You feel as if you’re kissing someone you’ve forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> “Oh, when you're all alone, I will reach for you  
> When you're feeling low, I will be there, too”  
> — Cigarettes After Sex, _Apocalypse_


End file.
